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Page 433
Viciously he swung the shield out, mounted one more rung, swung sideways so that he could place a buttock on the wall. A single blow caught him on the upper right shoulder. He gasped with pain, although he had half expected it, lashed out with his mailed fist, and dropped down onto the safe stone surface of the wall. Three men leapt at him, but his shield was up, and under its cover he drew his sword.
The noise was now so loud and so general that Ian did not know whether any of the other parties had been successful in scaling the wall. He disabled one of the men who opposed him and moved right. Owain dropped beside him, his sword already swinging; he moved left. Geoffrey dropped safely between them and scuttled behind Ian, drawing his lighter weapon. For the moment, there could not be any messages to run. A solid wall of men opposed them to the right, where lay the entry to the left-hand tower that guarded the drawbridge and portcullis.
The number of defenders was not important, except in the long run. Because the walls were only eight feet wide at this level, only two or three could advance against the invaders at any one time. If the other parties scaling the walls were unsuccessful, however, the supply of fresh defenders could overwhelm Ian's party by exhaustion. Right now that problem was far from Ian's mind. He was concentrating on keeping his side clear and pushing the defenders back. What inhibited them worked even harder against Ian. If he and the few men who had come up the ladder did not push the defenders back, no more of his party could come over the wall to help. There simply would not be standing room for them.
Jamie and two other northerners were up now. They had taken over Sir Robert's and Owain's positions and freed those two to come to Ian's aid. It was on his side that the pressure and danger were greatest. There was neither time nor space for niceties of technique. Ian

 
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